Fundamental Substances
by brainandheart
Summary: -Four skilled benders who secretly love other elements-Mako, Tenzin, Jinora, Lin-
1. Mako

Air 气

The sound of laughter reaches the tree whose roots he's currently using as a pillow, and he lazily opens one eye to watch his girlfriend goofing off with the airbending kids. A small grin slips onto his face when he sees Meelo and Ikki tag-team Korra, using their airbending to leap straight up onto her shoulders. A few feet away from the scuffle, Jinora moves through her forms, ready for her father's lesson. He's pretty sure she's rolling her eyes as Korra yells.

He knows Korra is frequently frustrated by the patience and exactitude that airbending often requires, the wonderful contradiction of control and freedom, but he's fascinated by it. He briefly considers asking Master Tenzin if he could join their early morning meditation (another thing he knows Korra hates), but even as the thought enters his mind he knows he will never actually speak his desire aloud. It wouldn't change anything. He doesn't know how the Air Acolytes can do it, how they can follow all the customs and traditions, because in the end, it's just a game. No matter how well they act like Air Nomads, they still won't be airbenders.

He's pragmatic, maybe too pragmatic sometimes, he knows this, but if he isn't he thinks he might go crazy. If he lets himself think and ponder and question, then he'll just start hating himself, and even though he's aware that suppressing things can't be healthy, he's sure that loathing something integral to his nature is probably pretty unhealthy as well. Even now all he has to do is close his eyes to remember the grief and terror and above all _shock_ as he tried desperately to shield his brother's eyes from the awful scene unfolding right in front of them. He remembers having to explain to a confused Bo that their parents were never coming back, and he remembers the disgust and the _anger_ he felt in the following months whenever he was forced to firebend.

But he's already learned that dwelling on all of it is useless. This is the hand that life has dealt him, and he can either wallow in angst forever or accept it. He is a firebender, and the truth is, his firebending has saved his life, and the lives of those he loves, on several occasions.

However, that doesn't stop him from watching wistfully as the orange-and-yellow-clad figures lift off, leaving the rest of the world behind them.


	2. Tenzin

Water 水

The clouds have been hinting at it all day, and at last they've fulfilled their teasing. It starts slow, a few scattered drops plinking on the wooden roof above his head, but before long it's a deluge, and the sound of falling water surrounds him.

In the distance he hears others on the island hurrying to get in out of the rain, but sitting on the cool floor of the open-sided pavilion in perfect meditation form and ensconced by the weather he might as well be an island of his own. He breathes in deeply and slowly, savoring the scent permeating the air, fresh and sweet. He releases the breath in time with a gentle rumble of thunder.

It's just rain, just little falling drops of water soaking into stone and wood and earth, but somehow the gently powerful sound soaks into his mind as well, drawing out half a century's worth of memories. Memories of his father's strong arms and gentle laugh as a young boy stubbornly insisted that of course he's not afraid of thunderstorms, the evidence of his tiny shaking frame to the contrary. He remembers the day of the warm summer shower when his siblings convinced him to play in the rain, and his mother's face later that day as she hovered between laughter and exasperation at their dirty clothes. He remembers the two times Lin threw mud in his face, once when he was seven and again when he was sixteen. Both times for the same reason, too.

With a heaviness of heart he recalls that it was raining the day his mother told him she was leaving for the South Pole to teach the new Avatar, and it was raining when he received the shocking news that his uncle had died suddenly. But then he also remembers watching his own children dance through the raindrops, their simple delight transforming them into joy incarnate. He thinks of the night where booming thunder sent three young children scampering to their parents' bed, and in his mind he hears the stories that chased those fears away. He remembers kissing his wife in this very pavilion, soaked to the skin from running through the rain from the house, both of them laughing a little at the absurdly romantic atmosphere even as they held each other closer. He recalls his life.

The storm waxes and wanes throughout the day, and he remains. He doesn't move a bit, never even opens his eyes, but the serious lines of his face soften as he sits and listens.


	3. Jinora

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Earth 土

It's late afternoon on one of those lazy sorts of days where summer blends into autumn, and she's trying to avoid being seen as she sneaks out of the house. It's really not so difficult, the heat and stillness in the air has driven most of the tiny island's inhabitants inside to pursue quiet, solitary activities. Even her normally wild siblings cannot muster up the energy to chase the ring-tailed winged lemurs; neither the young airbenders nor the lemurs are to be found.

She reaches a small grove of trees near the meditation pavilion and lithely slips through the foliage until she comes upon a little clearing. There, she unrolls the scroll that she has held clutched to her chest this entire time, smoothing it flat on the soft grass. There is nothing about this scroll that warrants her careful secrecy, but an excited thrill runs up her spine nonetheless as she brushes her fingers across the simple diagrams.

Carefully looking around to reassure herself that she is truly alone, she copies the pose in the first diagram. Slowly, a little shakily, she moves through the poses, her arms lifting and falling in the swirling, graceful patterns she has seen her grandmother form many times. It feels like a dance, fluid but controlled, and she senses the similarities with her own element.

When she reaches the end of the kata, she moves on to the next line, the next element. Once again, she follows the diagrams, quick, forceful punches and kicks, but there is no subtle elegance here. Here is power and speed and raw energy. Naturally, no flames appear, but she still feels rather uncomfortable with the inherent aggression behind the movements.

Finally, she arrives at the last line of diagrams, and she can't help another shiver of excitement because this is really where she got the idea in the first place. This is her natural opposite, as her father says, and she has always been curious about it. She sinks down into the first pose, knees bent and feet firmly planted, already so different from airbending. A laugh bubbles up in her at the sheer strangeness of it.

She has to force herself to keep her feet rooted to the earth as she follows the diagrams, so used to skimming along the surface. She knows from her books that true earthbending is not all brute force, that it requires patience and observation, waiting and watching for the perfect moment, and she can't help but think of the long hours of stillness and focus that she has spent in the pavilion on the other side of the trees. Is it anything like that? For some reason, she really wants it to be. Even though she knows that this is not her, that she is meant for the open sky and the dancing breeze, some part of her _likes_ the steadiness, the strength of the earth.

She can't understand it, but she admires it nonetheless.


	4. Lin

**Here's the last one! Again, thank you to all those who followed, favorited, or gave me input.**

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Fire 火

A frigid blast of wind cuts through the night as she makes her way to her front door, chilling her to the bone beneath her armor. She pulls her overcoat a little tighter but doesn't speed up, a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

As if in defiance of the weather, she pauses just before the door and turns to take in the city she has just spent all day (and a fair bit of the night) protecting. Warm light spills out from windows and streetlamps, glowing softly against the dusting of snow, making the city look so much purer and more pristine than she knows it to be. But still, it is beautiful. Her city. A small smile crosses her face before she brushes off the moment of sentimentality and lets herself into the house.

The entryway is dark, like the rest of the house, but she needs no light to navigate the place she has lived in all her life. Shrugging out of her coat, she drops it unceremoniously on the front table and continues into the sitting room. Here, before doing anything else, she picks up the flints by the hearth and easily strikes up a fire in the fireplace. Once it catches, the flame grows quickly, and she moves into the adjoining room, the kitchen.

She finds the kettle and tealeaves almost by instinct. Sure, she could use the electric lights installed years ago, but she won't. To be honest, she doesn't care for them much. When she was growing up, they had rarely ever turned them on; after all, her mother was blind, so the light itself didn't matter, and Toph had much preferred the sound, scent, and warmth that a good old-fashioned fire provided.

_Fire is life_, Aang had told her once. But for her, fire is also familiarity. Everyone already knows that earth connects her to her mother, and she wouldn't give that up for anything, but not many know that fire does too.

For her, fire is a six-year-old curled up in her mother's lap near the fireside and it's way too hot, but it's long past bedtime and she's listening to some wild story and her mom's arms are tight around her so it doesn't matter. Fire is fuming and folded arms because her mother has plunked herself down between her and Tenzin and won't leave them alone so they're reduced to watching the firelight flicker on the wall all night. Fire is the funeral pyre of the Dragon of the West the first time she ever saw her mother cry, and fire is laughing and roasting their dinner on sticks in the fireplace because the cook had the day off. So maybe it is life after all.

Meanwhile, her tea is ready, so she pours a cup and returns to the sitting room, sinking down onto a chair with a sigh, relieved to be off her feet at last after a long day. She knows that if others could see her they would call it a lonely existence and they would pity poor Lin Beifong in her big, empty house. Just thinking about it makes her roll her eyes. Sure, she's not made of stone, and everyone feels lonely sometimes. But not tonight. Tonight she has a warm fire and a steaming cup of her favorite tea, and she is content.


End file.
